Kate and Nessa had a great time putting together a food basket for the babuszka. They started out harvesting goodies from the garden: romaine lettuce, chives, rosemary, basil, tomatoes, zucchini. They wore big floppy garden hats and took frequent breaks to enjoy glasses of ice water mixed with sliced lemons and cucumbers.
From the kitchen, they added fresh bread, pasta, and two jars of the just-made giardiniera. Maria wrapped up some of her pasta and enough jars of tomato sauce until the basket was overflowing. She shook her head and pulled out another basket. “You won’t be able to carry it in one basket,” she said. “It will break.”
When the sun began to set, Kate, Nessa, and Princess Kolodenko followed the path along the woods to the gardener’s cottage. Even Nessa, who had previously mentioned being uncomfortable around the old woman, walked in eagerness.
“I found a soldier out here one day when I was bringing the babuszka her basket,” Nessa said. “He was still as anything, hiding behind a tree. When he saw what I was carrying, he risked making a noise, revealing his hiding place. He was the leader of a band of twenty partisans who were making their way north and they had run out of food days earlier. I gave him the basket and had to go back for more. When I returned, the basket was sitting on that rock over there filled with wildflowers.”
“How sweet,” Kate said. She imagined the starving men taking the time to pick flowers in gratitude.
They continued down the well-trod path as it wound through a grove of trees. The cottage, just like the sketch, was cute as a fairy tale. It was a squat wood-and-stone building with gingerbread trim along the roof and over the doorway. The windows held flower boxes overflowing with periwinkle, cornflowers, and cosmos. Kate let the other girls walk ahead as she took it all in.
With the addition of the flowers, which were missing from Johnny’s sketch, the cottage looked exactly like the watercolor her dad sent her for her birthday. He had been here, all right. But instead of making her feel closer to him, it made her unexpectedly sad. Kate was beginning to understand why her mother was not ready to open Dad’s box or come to Italy. This must be how her mom felt when she looked at the box.
Princess Kolodenko matched her pace to Kate’s. “It is possible your father was with the group of men who came to collect the artwork we were hiding. I’m sorry that I did not catch all their names. They were not many, but I was busy with all the children and making sure everything at the house was running smoothly. I wish I could help you more. Our villa was so busy at the time.”
“I understand,” Kate said. Her dad would have spent some time here, getting all the details right. She wondered what drew him to the cottage, and if he came before or after getting the diamond. Perhaps the babuszka would know.
No lights were on, and the cottage had the feel of desertion about it.
“Toward the end, we had to take all the children with us into the farms,” Princess Kolodenko continued, unfazed by the look of the cottage. “Our main villa was overrun with retreating Germans. They kicked us out—only the best for the officers. Once they left we could move back and assess the damage. They were angry and destroyed much of our lovely house. It has taken us all this time to restore the damage.”
“But then the Australians came,” Nessa said.
“Yes, they were a welcome sight,” Princess Kolodenko said.
“A handsome sight,” Nessa said. “All the girls in town were happy to see them. To hear them talk with their funny accents.”
Now they were standing in the yard in front of the door.
“I don’t think she’s here,” Nessa said. “She’d have had a light on by now.”
Kate pointed to a bicycle leaning against the side of the house. “Does she ride into town?”
“Yes,” Princess Kolodenko answered. “Her bicycle was stolen during the war, but it was one of the first things we replaced. I hope she is well.” She knocked on the door. “Babuszka. Babuszka, are you in?”
Princess Kolodenko searched the cottage while the rest waited outside. She came out, a worried look on her face. “She is not here. Everything is neatly put away, no fresh flowers on the table like she likes to keep. I’m afraid she has gone.”
Nessa pushed her way into the cottage, and Kate followed. Inside was one large room, with a small soft bed pushed up against the wall to the right. At the back was the kitchen with a row of cabinets, a sink, and an old wood stove with its black pipe snaking up through the roof. The floor was spotless wood planks.
“Does she go away often?” Kate asked.
“Never. She had no family apart from us. Oh, dear. Where could she have gone?”
“We could ask the movie people if they’ve seen her,” Nessa said.
Princess Kolodenko nodded. “Great idea. They’ve already taken an interest in her. They’ve filmed her several times in the background scenes.”
They left the canned food on the table in case they were wrong and the babuszka returned. “This is very troubling,” Princess Kolodenko whispered as she closed the door tight. “Quickly now, before we have no more light.” She led the march back to the villa.
Late that night as Kate was staring up at the ceiling trying to figure out what could have happened to the babuszka, there was a gentle knock at the door. Before Kate could respond, it opened, illuminating Princess Kolodenko’s frame. “Are you awake?” came the whisper.
“Yes. Come in.”
Princess Kolodenko sat on the edge of Kate’s bed. “Do you still want to go to Poland?”
Kate’s stomach fluttered. She eagerly rolled onto her side and pushed herself up on one arm. “Yes. Lidka can take me to Mal—” Kate stopped herself. She needed Princess Kolodenko’s approval to go and didn’t want to remind her outright of who Kate would be going to see. “She thinks she can help.”
“I still believe Poland is dangerous.”
“She says it isn’t.”
“Maybe not for her.” Princess Kolodenko was quiet for a long time, staring at her clasped hands.
“Is there something else?” Kate prompted.
“I am weighing your safety with your dreams. How your mother would feel for you to travel to Poland this summer. We will have to get her permission.”
“Really? I don’t think Mom will mind. She took me there herself when I was so little I don’t remember. To come all this way and not see Poland would be a tragedy.”
Princess Kolodenko let out a small laugh and looked up at the ceiling. “I have a different view of tragedy.” Her gaze fell on Kate. “If the babuszka is gone, it means something. I was wrong. You should go.” The princess’s face was pale in the dim light. She stood, and the concerned look in her eyes before she turned away made Kate draw in a breath. What was the princess not telling her?